


Your Hands were on my Hips, your Name is on my Lips

by blueabsinthe



Series: Fumbling Towards Ecstasy [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Ottawa Senators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:37:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueabsinthe/pseuds/blueabsinthe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's something to be said for missing someone, and making not so great life choices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Hands were on my Hips, your Name is on my Lips

**Author's Note:**

> Some of the younger Senators decided on May 15th to have a fun day [on twitter](http://24.media.tumblr.com/0871ed899e4d62f99e53b376a51831c4/tumblr_mmv2pdcqnL1qdbe91o1_1280.png), which is where the whole Cory/Jean-Gabriel thing came from. 
> 
> Then, of course, boltschick2612 mentioned Dustin Tokarski, and well ... this is the end result. 
> 
> Title is lyrics from the Lana Del Rey song, 'Burning Desire'

Jean-Gabriel isn't exactly sure how he and Cory ended up becoming as close as they did, only he was quite sure that was how he ended up in this whole mess to begin with. 

He still can't quite fathom it had been a little over a month since he got the call up to the Senators. Sometimes, he thinks he is still in a dream, and eventually he will wake up. He has constantly had to prove everyone wrong. Growing up, he used to hear over and over again how he was 'too small', or that he would never get a chance to play in the NHL playoffs. And, now, here he was. 

He supposes maybe that is how he and Cory bonded. Cory had seemingly blown into his life like a tornado. He is all dark hair, bright eyes. Jean-Gabriel knows about the struggles Cory's had to overcome to even be here. He sees himself mirrored in the depths of Cory's eyes as their eyes meet across the space. After his call up, and knowing he was going to be slotted into the lineup for the game on April 11th against the Flyers, the nerves set in. Jean-Gabriel's teammates had been helpful, but there was just something about Conacher's reassurances that really drove home he was hours away from his NHL debut. 

The playoffs sweep them up in a whirlwind, and before he knows it he's stepping onto the ice in the Bell Centre, head spinning with equal parts disbelief and awe. The first round passes by in such a blur, he almost doesn't register the second round starting.

Let alone the fact he is currently sitting in Cory and Mika's shared hotel room in Pittsburgh, watching as Mika laughs as Guillaume shouts about how he is obviously cheating at their Xbox game. 

Jean-Gabriel glances over at Cory, noticing his fingers busily typing on his phone screen, not paying attention to what was going on around him. Eventually, he nudges Cory, and whispers just loud enough for Cory to hear. "You texting a girl, or somethin'?"

He watches as Cory's cheeks turn scarlet, and he hastily shoves his phone into his pocket. "Um … yeah, somethin' like that," Cory says noncommittally. 

Cory keeps his eyes averted from him, and Jean-Gabriel half-wonders what could possibly be so bad about texting a girl that Cory felt he had to hide it from him. He nudges Cory's toe with his, and smiles at him. "Y'know you can talk to me if …"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Cory murmurs. His tone sounds distracted, and he pulls his phone out again, pushing a button to light up the screen. He sighs, and tucks his phone away, before he forces himself to focus on their teammates idle chatter. 

This lasts for all of about two minutes, before Cory has his phone in his hand again, his eyes lighting up as he checks the screen before answering the call.

"Hey," he says, "I was hoping you'd call. We can work out -" Cory's voice halts, and Jean-Gabriel notices the crestfallen expression his face takes on then. 

Cory scrambles to his feet, mouths _I'll be right back_ , to him before he is hurrying out of his room. Jean-Gabriel forces his attention back to his teammates, and tries rather unsuccessfully to focus. His mind was going a mile a minute, as he tried to get Cory's expression out of his mind. After about three more unsuccessful attempts at this, and noticing Cory still hadn't returned, he made the decision to go and find him. 

"Come on man!" Mika protested. "Stay!" 

Jean-Gabriel finds Cory sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, his phone still against his ear. "No, I get it. I guess I just figured I was important enough to warrant some schedule rearranging."

He watches as Cory hangs up, his hands sliding his phone from one hand to the other, not noticing he was no longer alone. Jean-Gabriel lets the door shut behind him with a soft click, shuffles closer to Cory before he nudges his leg with his toe. 

"Is everything okay?" he blurts out.

Cory finally looks up, and offers him a small smile, before he shrugs. "Fine, I suppose."

The seconds tick by slowly, both staring at one another, both of them afraid of breaking eye contact. Eventually, he extends a hand to Cory, watches as Cory takes it without hesitation. "C'mon." He gestures with his head down the hall towards his room. 

Cory follows him without question. The green wink of the card reader blinks as he lets them both inside. Jean-Gabriel lets out a soft sigh of relief when he realizes his roommate is not there, and watches as Cory sinks onto one of the beds, his hands running over the comforter, his eyes downcast. 

There was a hint of uncertainty colouring the air between them as Cory kept his eyes trained on the ground. Jean-Gabriel is not quite sure what to say at the moment. Normally, he would try to come up with something, but the uncertainty in the air seems to want to extend to his voice.

"You ever feel like you're not as important to someone as you hoped?" Cory's voice is quiet, his eyes still trained on the floor. 

Jean-Gabriel crosses the floor, and sits in front of Cory, leaning his head on Cory's knee. "She must mean a lot to you," he remarks.

His remark hangs in the air, and he watches as Cory rubs his hand across his mouth, and rubs absently at the space between his brows with his thumb and index finger. Cory appears like he is waging some kind of inner battle. Eventually, his movements still long enough for him to speak. " _He_ ," he corrects.

"Yeah?" Jean-Gabriel asks, fingers reaching out and rubbing at the hem of Cory's jeans. "So, you're …"

Cory cradles his face in his hands, and laughs mirthlessly. "This is all so fucked up." He rubs his face roughly. "He should still be in 'Cuse. At least then he'd have an excuse for …" his voice breaks off then, and he buries his face in his hands.

Jean-Gabriel frowns, brow furrowed in confusion. "'Cuse?"

"Syracuse," Cory clarifies.

"Oh," he whispers, his mind registering Cory is referring to his old AHL affiliate team. He tries to run through the Crunch's roster in his head, trying to recall the roster, hoping a name may jump out at him. However, his thoughts are moving so fast he cannot figure it out. He still hasn't moved his head from Cory's knee, his fingers still fiddling with the hem of Cory's jeans. He feels Cory shift, and he moves his head, his thumb brushing involuntarily against Cory's ankle. He hears the sharp intake of breath Cory makes at the contact, and his eyes snap up only to find he is staring into Cory's electric blue ones.

"You, um … you're not going to … what I mean is … you won't say anything to anyone?" Cory finishes lamely. 

Jean-Gabriel traces his index finger in a figure-eight motion on the plush carpeting, all the words he wants to say feel like they are candied together. The promise Cory is waiting for at his omission tastes like petrichor - metallic and grainy - against his tongue. He chews absentmindedly at his bottom lip as he feels Cory staring at him. The blue of his irises almost searing in their intensity. 

When he does finally gather up enough resolve to look up at Cory, he realizes just how foolish he was for even thinking he was immune to Cory's gaze. His dark hair, slightly dishevelled, catches the light, causing him to look almost ethereal. Jean-Gabriel stares at Cory, the slope of his shoulders, the swirl of blue in his irises, and all the words he has die on his lips.

"J?" Cory whispers, slightly breathless, and sounding just this side of fucked up.

"No," he manages, knowing it is the only word he can manage at the moment. 

The seconds tick by so slowly, his chin resting on Cory's knee as they stare at each other. Cory's eyes are assessing, and, before he knows what he is doing, he's kissing him, hand curling around the back of Cory's neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. Cory makes a little noise of surprise, but it gets lost somewhere between their mouths, as Jean-Gabriel moves his mouth over his.

Cory slides his hands down the front of Jean-Gabriel's shirt, hands balling into fists against the fabric, tugging insistently on the cotton. Jean-Gabriel shifts onto his knees, palm pressing against the back of Cory's neck, and groans as Cory sucks hard on his bottom lip. His lip has healed from the high stick he took from Subban in the first round, but a twinge of half-remembered pain shoots through his system as Cory nips lightly at his lip.

He feels Cory's fingers as they curl around his wrist, thumb brushing over the sensitive skin of his inner wrist, and he trembles as they finally break apart. Cory was wild-eyed, blue irises darkening to an almost navy colour. 

Jean-Gabriel couldn't stop the flood of thoughts that ran through him like a freight train. The thought about how he may have just fucked up everything about their budding friendship hits him like a D-man finishing off a check. _Shit, fuck. Ohgodplease. This is all sorts of fucked up. I've royally screwed this …_

"I …Cory, I …" He averted his eyes to the floor, and started to sink down on his knees, mumbling in broken strains of English and French. He didn't know what else he could possibly say to make this entire situation less fucked up than it already was.

Cory moves so fast, Jean-Gabriel is left reeling as Cory hauls him up across the space separating them, mouth swallowing any surprised gasps he may have had at Cory's sudden ferocity. Somehow, they end up on the bed, Cory pinning him to the mattress. "Shh," Cory said quietly, kissing him again, before he let his lips slide down Jean-Gabriel's cheek to his jaw. 

Jean-Gabriel gets his leg hooked around Cory's knee, and he listens as Cory lets out small little gasps that send all the blood rushing to his dick. He barely registers when Cory's hands sneak up slightly under the hem of his shirt, fingers skimming the skin of his abdomen. Jean-Gabriel feels his cock throb, and he tries to recall the last time he has ever been this _achingly_ hard. 

He comes up short. 

When Cory dips his fingers slightly into the waistband of his jeans, he stops thinking all together. He whimpers, and Cory silences him with another kiss. 

"J …" he whispers, mouth hovering over his ear. 

Christ, he could get fucking high off of Cory's breathless tone as it tickled his ear. He hisses as Cory's teeth scrape over his throat, and nibble at his collar bone. Jean-Gabriel can't stop his hips as they jerk involuntarily against Cory, and he whimpers as Cory presses his hand against his hipbone to still his movements. Eventually, Cory shifts his position, his weight pinning Jean-Gabriel to the bed. 

Jean-Gabriel lets out strangled little gasps as Cory ground his hips against him. He watches as the movement causes Cory's eyes to cloud slightly, and he tries to arch his hips up, desperately seeking more of the mind-numbing friction. "Cory …" he practically sobs. 

Cory presses his mouth to Jean-Gabriel's then. There is more urgency behind their kisses now, as Cory moves his leg slightly, their whimpers being swallowed by each other's mouths. 

"Cory … _S'il te plait_ ," Jean-Gabriel gasps out, still not entirely sure what it was he was asking for, only that he was sure he would go out of his mind if Cory stopped whatever the hell he was doing with his hips against his dick.

Cory had a good ten pounds or so on him, but Jean-Gabriel arched his back slightly, heat swirling through his system at the contact. 

" _S'il te plait …_ " he murmurs over and over against Cory's mouth, hands balled into fists on the fabric of Cory's shirt, trying desperately to push his hips up. " _C’est pas juste_ ," he groans as Cory circles his hips against him once more. 

"J …" Cory whispers, mouth hovering over his. "You sound so good." He slides his hand over the crotch of Jean-Gabriel's jeans, fingers tracing the outline of his dick, feeling as it strains against the rough denim.

" _Ouais_ ," Jean-Gabriel whines, as Cory slides his hand away, and moves against him, hitting just the right spot, over and over … " _Ouais … comme ça …_ "

"Keep talking. I love the way you sound …" Cory's voice is insistent, the tone demanding. 

" _Câlisse_ ," he grinds out, giving Cory exactly what he wanted. Jean-Gabriel's teeth were gritted as everything builds too quickly … until … oh … "Cory … _ah … arrêtez …_ "

He comes with his ankles looped around the backs of Cory's knees, mouth pressed against the shell of Cory's ear, breaths escaping him in short, desperate pants. His fingers digging into Cory's arms so hard he is sure there will be bruises there later. 

Cory is looking at him, blue eyes bright, a tinge of amusement swirling in the depths. "J … you okay, man?"

Laughter, and a flushed face take in Cory's slightly amused expression. "Never better." 

Cory shifted above him slightly, and it takes Jean-Gabriel a minute or so for his mind to catch up to what is going on, before he rolls them, so Cory is on his back, bright blue eyes staring up at him. 

There is a blush colouring Jean-Gabriel's cheeks as he stares down at Cory, heart hammering wildly against his chest. He fiddles with the button on Cory's jeans, and tries to ignore the dampness in the crotch of his own jeans. He couldn't help but feel like he was in over his head. This situation right now was bordering on ten shades of fucked up. _Ohshit, ohfuck, ohgodplease_ , why won't his hands stop shaking? Cory is watching him intently. Studying him almost. And, fuck … does Cory know he's never done this before? 

"J …" Cory says, tone soothing. "It's okay."

Jean-Gabriel tugs at the hem of Cory's shirt, and Cory eventually cottons on to what Jean-Gabriel is trying to do. He sits up so he can help Jean-Gabriel get his shirt off. He runs his fingers through Jean-Gabriel's hair, before he moves his hand, cupping the back of Jean-Gabriel's neck, and presses his forehead against his. "Take your time." 

Cory's tone is calm and reassuring. It spurs Jean-Gabriel on, and he exhales softly as he unbuttons the button at the top of Cory's jeans, and tugs them off. He moves slow as he extricates Cory's erection from his boxers, before he manages to get his fingers around Cory's cock. He shifts his position, his eyes sliding down to stare at his fingers, which were currently wrapped around the base of Cory's dick. 

"Jesus fuck," Cory says through gritted teeth, as Jean-Gabriel moves his hand experimentally along his length. He manages to get his fingers tangled in Jean-Gabriel's hair, and he gasps out unintelligible words as Jean-Gabriel's movements stop.

"Did I hurt you?" Jean-Gabriel whispers, dark eyes locked on Cory's.

Cory shakes his head, fingers digging into Jean-Gabriel's shoulder, as he bites his bottom lip. As his eyes drop down, he can't stop the groan that escapes his lips, as he stares at Jean-Gabriel's fingers wrapped around him. Jean-Gabriel still hadn't moved his hand, and Cory tilts his chin, lips catching on Jean-Gabriel's jaw. 

"I don't …" Jean-Gabriel breathed, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. " _Montre moi_ …" he whispers, and swallows thickly around the lump in his throat. His eyes are heavy-lidded and dark as he offers Cory a small smile. "Show me," he finally breathes. 

Cory lowers his hand to cover Jean-Gabriel's, before he slowly moves their hands over his length in a long, slow glide. "J …" he hisses as he guides their hands over his length for a few more strokes, before he loosens his grip, hand falling away shortly after. 

Cory's cock is leaking with pre-come, and he arches his hips slightly as Jean-Gabriel presses his thumb against the tip tentatively. "Fucking shit," he hisses, voice trembling, as he feels Jean-Gabriel's hand spreading the moisture down his length. He sinks back on the bed, his elbows supporting him as his hips rose up to meet Jean-Gabriel's hand. 

"J …" Cory gasped, his hands scrambling for purchase on the sheets. He watched as Jean-Gabriel leaned down, the tip of his tongue licking a bead of pre-come from the tip. 

That did it. 

"Jesus shit," he groaned, his dick twitching in Jean-Gabriel's hand. His arms finally gave out as he fell against the mattress and he nearly bit through his bottom lip as he came all over Jean-Gabriel's hand, and his stomach. 

Jean-Gabriel tried to clear the cobwebs from his mind as Cory tugged his hand away from him, pulling him up, so he could press a kiss against his forehead. 

"You sure you've never done that before?" Cory joked, as Jean-Gabriel rested his forehead against his. They both laugh, and Cory runs his fingers down Jean-Gabriel's arm and sighs in contentment. 

It is a long while before either of them move. Cory runs his fingers through Jean-Gabriel's hair, and doesn't halt his movements until Jean-Gabriel finally glances up at him. 

"Are we …" Cory starts, his head still spinning with his thoughts. "Are we good?" he finally manages to get out.

Jean-Gabriel tucks his head into the crook of Cory's neck, his even, steady breaths tickle Cory's skin. He whispers something unintelligible. Cory wants to ask him what he said, but he finds he is content to just lay like this for a while longer. 

To be honest, Cory could have stayed like that all night, but dinnertime ticks closer, so he forces himself into a sitting position, watching as Jean-Gabriel changes his clothes, his back to him. When he turns, Cory's eyes are calm, and unguarded, even. 

"Let's go," Cory says, as he hops up from the bed, ignoring the chirpy ring coming from his pocket. 

"Lead the way." Jean-Gabriel offers him an easy smile and follows Cory out of his room.

It isn't until later, when Cory is emptying his pockets, that he finally glances at his phone. His throat tightens slightly, and his chest hurts as his eyes scan the text.

_I'm sorry … -D_


End file.
